Ilio Vesh
Ilio Vesh is an Alchemist from the Imperial College of Magic, located in Corinth. Not much is known about his background or his parentage. He claims to have been working on a revolutionary energy system, when his project was sabotaged by an unknown enemy, and he was subsequently expelled from the College and exiled from the city. He met up with the rest of the group outside of the gates of Corinth, where he participated in a bargain with Kotu, a monk of the Ordained Truth. As part of the bargain, Ilio and the rest of the group went to investigate the Shrine of Pelor, a small temple near the town of Lorent. After their investigation, Ilio went off with Kotu and Anja, the Tengu witch, to investigate a rumor of Archmaester Beleren's appearance in relation to a Red Dragon. The trio went to examine some draconic ruins, where a prophecy was uncovered. Their investigation was interrupted by the appearance of Eran, a member of the Ordained. Ilio then returned to the group, and they traveled back to Corinth, where they spent several days. Very little is known about how Ilio spent this time period, prior to the fall of the Temple of Corinth and the meeting with Prince Kaleb. Ilio and Vodin then traveled into the wilderness to meet with Anja, and discuss the possibility of meeting with the Emerald Dragon Yokkim. They returned to the city, and now the group is traveling south with Anja, escorting her and Kurt the weasel to a destination south of the Fairlands. Other known information about Ilio Age: Estimated 25-35 years old Parentage: unknown Hometown: Corinth Abilites: Alchemy, Languages, Engineering, Arcana Intrigue: Mentioned something about a 'Conflux' when talking to Kafax Description If one were to ask Ilio to describe himself, he would shrug and give them a list. The answer would be rote, and perfunctory, and utterly devoid of embellishment. Dark hair, prematurely going grey due to a combination of factors. Middle height, under weight. Features of indeterminate ancestry. If one were to study the truth of these answers for themselves, they might find discrepancies. They might think that such answers, while technically truthful, might actually warrant some embellishment, or at least some elaboration. They would see that beneath his dark and baggy school uniform he wasn't just thin, he was painfully thin. His hair wasn't prematurely going grey, it was prematurely dying. His ancestry wasn't just indeterminate, it was exotic. If one were to mention these discrepancies to Ilio, he wouldn't be insulted. Instead, you might see the faintest flicker of interest cross his otherwise passive face. He might raise an eyebrow, or give you a rare second look, dismissing his initial dismissal. A dismissal that might have seen pretentious or rude, when in fact it was born out of habit, and given unknowingly. If one were to study Ilio from afar, they might see that habit evident in other aspects of his behavior. Often his head might be down, eyes obscured in tilted shadow. Other times he would be staring at something intently, but not really seeing. One might notice that his hands were never idle, and that the quickness of their movement belied an unnatural dexterity. If one were to search for friends of his to get a clearer picture, they would be hard pressed to find any. In lieu of friends one might instead ask his colleagues, and see their eyes darken and their lips tighten at the mention of his name. Further prying might yield the harsh words of stinging pride, the words of those who have seen their own accomplishments cast in the shadow of their greater. Lucky, some might say. Privileged.